


Somewhere Different Now

by Remeinhu



Series: These Fragile Bodies [4]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Aramour FWB, Catalina Is Overthinking It, Developing Relationship, F/F, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Introspection, Lesbian Sex, Porn With Plot, aramour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remeinhu/pseuds/Remeinhu
Summary: Everyone in the queens' household has paired off--except for Catalina and Jane. The two have become fast friends, and there's some definite attraction.The thing is, after a first life overly constrained by her marital status, Catalina would really, truly prefer to stay single this time around. But does that mean she must also be resigned to indefinite celibacy?If you want to avoid any smut, it's all confined to the third chapter.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr, Anne of Cleves/Katherine Howard, Catherine of Aragon/Jane Seymour
Series: These Fragile Bodies [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800094
Comments: 20
Kudos: 68





	1. Taking Stock

First were Anne and Cathy.

It had been clear to the others from early on—from their furtive glances at each other, from the passion and pain of their initial rift over the matter of Thomas Seymour, from the intensity of their theological discussions, and from their immediate acceptance and understanding of each other’s mental divergences—that the two were powerfully, magnetically drawn to each other. If _any_ of the six reincarnated queens belonged together, it was Cathy and Anne, and in the early days their unresolved tension—intellectual, emotional, sexual— could turn the air in the house positively electric. So when the two announced they were now a couple, not a one of the other queens registered even the smallest hint of surprise.

Next were Anna and Kitty.

As they all adjusted to the strange new realm into which they found themselves reborn, the other queens watched, first with concern and then with pride and outright glee, as Kitty, who had awoken fragile and terrified, uncurled into a fierce, elegant, and dryly sarcastic vivacity. First she braced herself against Anna’s constant and steadfast presence, depending on her strong arms and generous heart for shelter. Then, as she grew into herself, she found she was more than a match for the older woman. She approached Anna, made it forthrightly clear what she wanted, and ever since then they’d put themselves into harness together, two abreast, striding forward into their new world.

That left Catalina.

And Jane.

While the others paired off, these two quietly grew into a fast friendship. When last they’d known each other, of course, their relationship had been deeply asymmetrical: Catalina had been the Queen, and Jane her Lady who owed her deference and obedience. Now, they had both been relieved to discover, they were able to approach each other on far more equitable terms, and had discovered they had a great deal in common. They shared an abiding need for calm and order, and a commitment to seeing things done thoroughly and properly. They were soothed by the same kinds of things—hot tea, meditative handwork, cozy sweaters. And they brought out underappreciated qualities in each other. Jane, uncowed by Catalina’s regal bearing, recognized her deep and abiding kindness from the start, and made sure everyone else knew about it. Catalina, for her part, recognized that despite her frequent anxious chattering and her struggles with literacy, Jane was a deep and perceptive thinker who enjoyed learning quite as much as Catalina herself did—she just needed different ways of getting at it.

Jane and Catalina _fit_ together. They were a team. Together, they were the backbone of the queens’ household, the steady hands on the helm of their ship.

They were firm friends, at ease with each other.

And that, it seemed, was that—except that there seemed to be a low-level hum of anticipation constantly hovering around the two.

Catalina, sensing this, wondered whether it was inevitable that the two of them would become a couple as the others had, and each time she wondered this she felt a strange mixture of excitement and troublement, for reasons she had difficulty fully putting her finger on.

It wasn’t that she was opposed to the idea, exactly. It certainly wasn’t the idea of becoming intimate with another woman—it wasn’t as though it had been _unknown_ in her first life, after all, and it wasn’t as though she hadn’t ever felt stirrings of her own in that direction from time to time. And in any case, given how utterly committed she was to supporting her goddaughter, when it became abundantly clear what Cathy and Anne were each other, she’d worked through any theological perturbations she might have had about the whole matter _right quick_.

It _certainly_ wasn’t that she disliked Jane. No, she liked her a great deal. She felt deep affection and care for her, loved her, even, although she didn’t feel the butterflies in her stomach everyone said you got when you really wanted to be _with_ a person. She felt fiercely protective of her, she felt mutually supported by her, and it all felt genuine, steady, and _good._

Nor was it that she found Jane unattractive. Very much to the contrary—more than once she’d had to stop herself from eyeing up the younger woman too obviously. She liked her plump figure, her flaxen hair and blue eyes, the quirk of her pink lips and the easy flush of her cheeks. Her full breasts, her broad hips and ample thighs struck Catalina as luxurious, and she could easily imagine herself reveling in the softness, the gentle dip and roll of her flesh. And when she caught herself watching Jane’s nimble hands as she worked on a tapestry, or hung a bookshelf, or repaired some small appliance, wondering idly what those hands might be capable of on her own skin, that certainly made her _feel things._

Really, what didn’t quite sit right for her wasn’t so much the thought of her and _Jane_ becoming a couple. It was the thought of her and _anyone_ becoming a couple. After becoming a teenage bride, then a teenage widow, then the wife of the King for twenty-four years, and then the final humiliation of having been discarded, Catalina was well and truly _sick_ of the expectation that she ought to be hitched to another person.

More than that, she was, she had been surprised to find, contented, actively _happy,_ even, with the single state she found herself in. Given her history of abandonment, when first Anne and Cathy, and then Anna and Kitty had paired of and she and Jane had _not_ , she’d feared she would feel alone and left behind. She had been startled to find that she did not feel that way, even a little bit. And as she thought about it, she realized, why should she? Neither couple seemed inclined to separate themselves from the communal household. On the contrary, they _wanted_ to stay. What’s more, they all seemed to treat her as the matriarch of the six, looking to her for advice and support, for praise and firm-yet-gentle correction.

She had a _family_ here. She had Cathy, who was like a daughter to her and whose bond with her had quickly grown deep and singular. She had Anne, who was like a younger sister with whom she might quarrel but about whom she cared deeply and for whom she would show up without question. She had Kitty, who was like a young niece to her, and for whom she was a respected elder who could be counted on to hear her out and take her mind and her fears seriously. She had Anna, who could be counted on to lay out matters as they were without shading or finesse, and who understood better than anyone else what it had felt like to die of being slowly devoured from the inside out.

And she had Jane, perhaps her dearest friend, with whom, again, she simply _fit._

Really, what else could she want for? She loved this beyond measure.

(When she thought again about what Jane’s hands might be able to do, it occurred to her that there _was_ one thing she might want for. But nothing in this world was perfect. On the whole, she reasoned, if she got to be this happy without binding herself to any one other, there were far steeper prices one might pay.

Even if the thought _did_ make her ache and shiver.

Even then.)


	2. Searching For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over drinks one evening, Catalina and Jane give voice to what turn out to be mutual desires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Jane and Catalina are drinking here, they're getting mildly buzzed at most. Nothing that would impair consent.

Catalina truly didn’t feel abandoned or dissatisfied with her lot, but that wasn’t to say there weren’t _moments_ where she didn’t feel slightly envious of the two couples’ internal dynamics. She didn’t want that dynamic _all_ the time, or even _most_ of the time, mind—she just thought it would be nice to be able to drop into every so often, much as she generally preferred to avoid noise and crowds but occasionally, when she was in the right mood, enjoyed a _really_ good party.

(She wouldn’t have minded getting laid every now and then, either).

She really didn’t want to give up the freedom of her singleness; the tradeoff was, on the whole, worth it. That didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to feel grumpy about what she missed from time to time.

Tonight, when Catalina was home by herself with not much to do, was one of those times. She sat at the kitchen table, nursing a slightly-too-strong gin and tonic and feeling lonesome and just a little sorry for herself.

Kitty and Anna had gone out to a dance class of some kind— _tango,_ Kitty had said, looking very eager as she’d practically bounced out the door ahead of her girlfriend. They’d both looked absolutely dashing, Kitty in character shoes and a high-necked burgundy dress whose skirt swirled sinuously about her knees, and Anna in slim-fitting black trousers and waistcoat and a dove-grey collared shirt.

Anne and Cathy were _technically_ at home, but at least up until about fifteen minutes ago, they’d been deeply engrossed in a conversation about the reception history of the Song of Songs, before retreating to one of their rooms.

(The conversation had in fact interested Catalina very much. She’d have joined in, had she not noticed that Anne was biting her lip in a way that made it quite clear that this was _not_ a group activity, an impression that was confirmed when they’d both muttered cursory excuses and headed upstairs with rather unseemly haste.

She didn’t begrudge them their fun, and she definitely did _not_ want to think about her goddaughter in that context.

She took another swig of her drink and tried not to feel too sour.)

Jane, meanwhile, had been out all day—at a community ceramic studio, she’d told Catalina happily, as she’d bustled out the door dressed in an oversized flannel shirt, her oldest jeans, and a kerchief over her hair, still somehow looking impeccably put together. She’d developed an interest in pottery months ago, and she loved the opportunity to get her hands into something really messy and create beautiful things for no purpose beyond her own aesthetic whims.

Catalina was thrilled that Jane had found that retreat, even if she wished she were home right now to keep her company. _I should find something along those lines for myself. Painting, perhaps? I wonder if there’s a class I could take, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to get some entry-level supplies._

Between the effects of her gin and tonic and thinking about what sorts of things she might like to paint and what media she might like to use (the finest portraitists in her first life had mainly used oils and gouache, but she rather liked the effect of watercolors, especially used together with ink), she was feeling considerably less grumpy than she had before. She’d just finished her drink and was beginning to feel pleasantly buzzed when the string of bells hanging from the doorknob jingled and Jane burst in, cheeks flushed from the brisk December air.

“Cata!” Jane grinned as she took her coat off and hung it up. “Just the person I was hoping to see!”

“Likewise! How was the studio? You were out ages, have you eaten?”

“It was lovely—just what I needed, I’m really pleased with the work I did today—but I’m ready for some proper human interaction now! And yes, I picked up a banh mi about an hour ago, but I wouldn’t say no to snack—preferably salty. And a hot drink—maybe just a bit alcoholic? Especially if I get to enjoy them with you?”

“But of course!” Catalina exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Can I fix us hot toddies? Or—wait, we’ve got hard cider, I can make up some wassail, though I might have to skip the baked apples! And maybe a big bowl of popcorn?

“That sounds perfect! Give me twenty minutes to shower? I’m a little, er, plastered over.” She held up her forearms, which still had streaks of clay on them.

“Go right ahead! I’ll have everything ready when you come back down.” Catalina made shooing motions toward the stairs, and then went to hunt down the popcorn, cider, spices, and sherry, whistling a bit as she set the mixture to warming in a pot on the stove.

____

By the time Jane came back downstairs, scrubbed and cozy in her flannel pyjamas and bathrobe, Catalina was ready with two steaming mugs (redolent of cinnamon and clove and a _very_ strong dose of sherry) and a large bowl of salted popcorn, seasoned with sumac.

“That looks so tempting!” Jane eagerly took her mug. “Living room?”

“Perfect.” They settled onto the sofa, popcorn between them, and clinked mugs. “To a single ladies’ evening in!”

Jane laughed. “Both sets of lovebirds are out, I take it?”

“Kitty and Anna are out at their dance class, yes. Cathy and Anne are _technically_ in, but if past experience is any guide they won’t be coming out of whichever of their rooms they’re in any time soon. “ She raised an eyebrow. “They were talking about Song of Songs, to give you an idea.”

“Aha, say no more. They _are_ awfully enthusiastic.”

“They are.” It came out rather more sourly than Catalina intended.

Jane cocked her head. “They _have_ been quieter, at least, since Kitty gave them what-for.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She took a deep swig of her wassail, then shivered. “Goodness, I’ve made this a bit strong.”

“Well, sounds as though you might need it!” Jane had been steadily sipping her own. “It’s delicious, at any rate. Different to what we had back then, but awfully good.” She chewed thoughtfully on a handful of popcorn. “What else is bothering you? If you feel like telling, anyway?”

Catalina was a little embarrassed, but she’d had just enough to drink by this point to overcome it. “A little bit of unseemly jealousy, I suppose. I’m perfectly content not to have their dynamic, but I really wouldn’t mind—well, having some of their fun from time to time.” Her cheeks felt a bit hot, and she was uncomfortably aware of where Jane’s knee was bumping up against her own.

“Ah, _that._ It’s understandable!”

“I probably sound far more bitter about it than I am. Truly, I’m happier with my lot here than I can possibly say—”

“—but sometimes being one of the last two single people living with two couples can feel like a bit much, can’t it? Especially when they’re all over each other.”

“Exactly so. _You_ get it.” Catalina was relieved that she and Jane were _sympatico_ on this point.

“I do. And I _also_ get being jealous of having someone to _be all over._ I can’t say I haven’t thought the same, more than once.”

“Ugh, is it awful that I’m relieved to hear you say that?”

“Not in the slightest; I could say the same.”

Catalina sighed. “Well, I suppose we can’t all have everything, and if that’s the sacrifice we have to make for the lives we both have, things could be a lot worse.”

“It’s true, they could be.” Just then Jane and Catalina both reached into the bowl of popcorn at the same time, and Catalina jumped a little bit as their fingers touched.

Jane opened her mouth as if to say something, then pursed her lips and looked down into her now-empty mug before looking at Catalina. “Of course…” She paused. “Perhaps this is presumptuous of me, but—if you and I are both rather grumpy about missing out on all that, maybe we could—?”

She was blushing _adorably._

Catalina tried to keep her expression calm and thoughtful, even though internally more and more of her was eagerly responding _yes, please!_ “I…suppose that _is_ a thought, isn’t it?” Feeling emboldened, she carefully set her mug and the bowl of popcorn aside. “Why don’t you try kissing me? We can see how it goes from there.”

Jane leaned in and kissed her, cupping the back of her head in her right hand. She started slowly, but soon enough Catalina grabbed her waist, pulling her in closer, and any pretense at caution was quickly abandoned.

After several rather frantic moments, Jane broke off, panting. “Your room, or mine?”


	3. Reaching Toward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then there was smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, suffice it to say, is VERY NSFW.

Catalina hadn’t realized just _how_ much she’d wanted this until Jane’s hands were all over her and her hands were all over Jane.

But _oh,_ how she wanted it now.

_Right now._

They’d hurried to set their empty mugs and half-finished popcorn by the sink and then, by mutual unspoken agreement, quick-walked to Catalina’s room, glancing at each other and trying to stifle giggles as they did so. Once Catalina had closed the door behind them, they’d glanced at each other awkwardly for a moment.

Now here they were, and Catalina’s whole awareness was on the memory of Jane’s hands on her just moments ago.

She began to attempt some kind of temporizing preamble, but Jane cut her off, pinning her shoulders against the door, tartly arching a pale eyebrow.

“You,” she said huskily, “maybe should not be so much with the talking just now.”

Catalina snorted. “Since when does your idiolect include Yinglish?”

“I’ve been watching _Crazy Ex-Girlfriend_ along with the rest of you. Tovah Feldshuh’s way of speaking is very memorable.”

“As I recall, the line ‘you’re always with the talking’ occurred in a deeply anaphrodisiac conte— _ohhhhh!_ ” she broke off, as Jane’s thigh parted her legs and she ground down against it involuntarily.

“Much better,” Jane purred, her lips torturously close to Catalina’s ear.

“You play very dirty.”

Jane’s hand had slid under the hem of Catalina’s thick knit tunic and was working its way upwards. “You like it.”

Catalina gasped as she felt Jane cup her breast. “I do. God, don’t stop— _Jaaaane!_ ” she wailed, as Jane did exactly that.

“This is not exactly a comfortable position. How about you get on the bed now? And lose the tunic and leggings, they’re in the way.” She was shedding her bathrobe as she spoke.

“Hang on one damn minute here! When did we decide you got to order _me_ around?”

“Oh, I expect around the time you got to do it to _me_ our whole last life, _your Majesty._ ”

“I could have had you flogged for that,” Catalina grumbled, as she sat down on the bed and fumbled her way out of her tunic, getting briefly stuck in its cowlneck.

“I don’t really think that does it for me, thank you. Take off those leggings and lie down,” she said crisply, stripping down to her underwear, and at the sight of Jane’s rippling stomach and rather splendid cleavage, Catalina wasted no time in doing so.

When she felt the wet cotton gusset of Jane’s knickers against her belly, her pelvic floor gave an involuntary spasm and she thought she might explode right then and there. She sat up, pulling Jane close so that she was straddling her lap, and kissed her hard. Jane took the opportunity to unhook the clasp of Catalina’s bra, and she responded in kind, suddenly, urgently _needing_ to touch those breasts, and possibly (rather embarrassingly, she thought briefly, before deciding she didn’t much care) bury her face in them.

Jane noticed her eagerness and laughed briefly. “You know, at that size they’re more than a bit of a pain. It was definitely a challenge to get used to, especially how different they were from my last body— _aaahh, yes, that_ feels good, though,” she exclaimed, as Catalina’s tongue circled her nipple, briefly, before trailing kisses up toward her collarbone.

“I can imagine it would be a pain! I’m very much appreciating them right now though. They’re _luxurious._ ”

“Would you like to hear a list of all of the objects I can hold under them?”

“Why not?” Catalina’s thumb had replaced her tongue on Jane’s nipple, now slick with her saliva.

“Hmm…a penknife, ten quills, a leatherbound psalter, a small saltcellar, a horsewhip, a doll’s chair…”

“I think I get the idea.” Catalina pulled Jane’s hips closer, reveling again in the sensation of wet cotton on her skin as she felt Jane grind against her and dig her fingers into her shoulders. Tentatively she slid her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear. “Is this all right?” she whispered to Jane; at her affirmative she reached both her hands down to grasp at her buttocks. They felt absolutely amazing, and she told Jane as much.

“I know,” Jane laughed throatily. She pulled back briefly and looked Catalina in the eye. “I think it’s well past time to be properly naked, don’t you?” She carefully placed her hand on Catalina’s mons before slipping inside her underwear at her nod. “You’re every bit as wet as I am.”

“Well, then, why don’t you do something about it?” Catalina had meant that to sound saucy, but the agonizingly slow movements of Jane’s hands between her legs were making her breath hitch, so it came out rather pathetically desperate. She pulled Jane’s underwear down from her hips with a roughness that surprised her, and whined as Jane climbed off her for a moment to free both of them from their final, encumbering garments.

She and Jane had seen each other naked before, of course, during bathing, in both lives. But this was different. She hadn’t seen Jane naked, flushed, her wetness slicking the insides of her thighs. She hadn’t seen her naked, straddling her, her breasts inches from her face, her nipples almost painfully firm. She hadn’t seen her naked, reaching between her legs once more, her thumb stroking her clit gently at first, then more firmly as she pressed her hips into Jane’s touch.

She hadn’t seen her naked, her gorgeous flesh vibrating from Catalina’s writhing underneath her, as she begged “inside me—please!” and then felt Jane’s fingers—those brilliant, nimble fingers that could create whole orchards and aviaries from silk and linen floss, could bring inert electronics purring back to life, could create strange and beautiful abstractions from a lump of wet clay—do just as she had asked. She hadn’t seen her naked as she felt those fingers twirl and thrust inside her while her thumb kept its constant rhythm on her clit, drawing her inexorably closer to the point of no return.

She hadn’t seen her naked as she felt her walls spasm and clench powerfully around Jane’s fingers, felt some small amount of _something_ shoot out of her, felt as though she was briefly dissolving and blurring at the edges as a wave of something _so_ good crashed through her.

When she came back to herself, Jane, whose head was resting on her belly, looked up at her. “So how was that?”

She reached out and ruffled Jane’s hair. “What do _you_ think?”

“Seemed pretty good to me. Who knew you were a squirter?”

_Oh. That._ “Damn. I hope I didn’t make too much of a mess?”

“I don’t think so—just a small spot on the duvet cover. Should be fine to leave ‘til morning. Anyway, it was _incredibly_ hot.”

Catalina sighed. “It used to happen every so often with Henry. At first he liked it, but, when things started going to pieces, he told me it was disgusting. By then, after Young Henry, and Mary, and all the miscarriages, things had started…leaking a bit, and he decided it was a sign I’d always been defective in…that department.” 

“The bastard,” Jane snarled. “It’s times like this I almost wish he _had_ come back, just so we could kill him again.”

“It _is_ a tempting thought. But I think this is ultimately better revenge, don’t you?”

“Oh, _for sure._ ” Jane had crawled up next to Catalina and was now lying beside her. “Besides which, you haven’t done me yet. I’m feeling _very_ impatient.”

Catalina eagerly dove in, losing herself in Jane’s smooth skin and generous curves. She felt Jane push at the top of her head slightly, and when she eagerly moved downward she thrilled as Jane practically shoved her the rest of the way. She couldn’t get enough of the salty tang of her, and from the noises Jane was making (shockingly on pitch, too—and was that a _whistle tone?_ ) it sounded as though _she_ couldn’t get enough of what Catalina was doing to her, either.

She came up for air, briefly, placing a hand where her mouth had been. Jane’s warm, slick cunt felt wonderful to the touch, and almost without thinking she curled her fingers and would have started to press inward, had Jane not reached down and stopped her.

“Cata—not that, please.”

“Shit! I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking!”

“It’s all right—you stopped when I told you, and I _loved_ what you were doing before!” She sighed. “I never cared much for penetration; the sensation didn’t really do anything for me. And then on top of everything—the last time I had someone’s hands inside me was during Edward’s birth, and…well, I died.”

“…Oh.” Catalina felt slightly sick. “Jane, I’m so sorry…”

“Cata, it is _all right_. Instead of being gratuitously apologetic, why don’t you put your mouth back where it was before? I was getting close.”

“Are you—”

“ _Now,_ please!”

“All right, all right!” Catalina complied, hooking her arms around Jane’s thighs to help with the angle, as Jane steered her head until she found just the right spot. Then she was swept away once again in the taste of her, and the wonderful sounds of her voice, and there was nothing else until she felt her convulse and shudder against her tongue and heard her sing out, and finally go limp.

_____

After some cursory ablutions they flopped back into Catalina’s bed. “Well,” Jane said, “I daresay this evening exceeded my expectations for it.”

“Mmmm. Very much agreed!”

“I hope it’s okay if I stay the night with you? I realize I never asked, but now I’m in bed again, I’m about ready to pass out.”

“That’d be lovely!” Catalina turned out the lamp. “Thank you for tonight. It was really, really good.”

“Likewise! Mmmmph, g’night!” Jane curled up and closed her eyes.

“G’night.” Catalina lay back happily. Did she dare to hope that she might be able to keep the kind of life she wanted— _and_ to have this every so often, too?

She could _definitely_ get used to it.

Just before she would have dozed off in a blissful haze, though, she heard Jane mutter sleepily into her hair:

“Mmmm. Love you, Cata.”

And just like that her guts snapped into a miserable, anxious knot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jane's tongue-in-cheek list of things she can fit under her breasts is a 16th-century adaptation of the similar list in the song "Heavy Boobs," from season 1 of "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend."


	4. Calling Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catalina and Jane clarify what they each want with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: Brief mention of dubious consent--it never actually happens, but Jane briefly worries she might have unwittingly crossed a consent boundary.

When Catalina woke the next morning, she stretched, groggily, feeling a vague haze of contentment. She snuggled up against Jane’s still-sleeping form, soaking up her warmth as she eased into full awareness.

Jane stirred, mumbling. “Mmmph. Morning, Cata…”

And then Catalina remembered what Jane had muttered as they’d fallen asleep the previous night, and she was suddenly wide awake and anxious.

_“Mmmm. Love you, Cata.”_

_Shit._

She sat up abruptly and exhaled, wrapping her arms around her chest (which now felt uncomfortably exposed) trying to calm her jangly nerves and uneasy stomach. Jane, startled, shook her head to clear it and rolled over to face her, propping herself up on one elbow. “Cata? What’s wrong?”

Catalina didn’t answer.

“Can you talk to me and tell me what’s going on?” She saw out of the corner of her eye that Jane’s face had become pinched with worry.

She tried to come up with words to explain herself, but she still couldn’t quite figure out how to articulate what had unnerved her so badly. Because of _course_ she loved Jane and knew that Jane loved her—it shouldn’t have been anything new! And yet somehow it all landed differently when those words came not an hour after Jane’s fingers had been inside her.

Certainly Jane hadn’t registered any complaints about being single as such, but Catalina had assumed that she eventually wanted a romantic partner. After all, didn’t _most_ people, at least those without a vocation?

_And I SO wish it could be me, especially since once she finds someone else we’ll lose this lovely dynamic we have, I’m sure of it. I want to keep being her Person where it counts, but I don’t want to be glued together._ The very thought of it made her feel caged, taking her back to the days when she’d been effectively imprisoned after Arthur’s death. _I don’t want to merge myself with someone else,_ even _Jane! I want my own life—_

“Cata, please talk to me!” Jane’s voice had gone up a few steps, and she was starting to sound panicky. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Oh, _crap,_ did you tell me to stop at any point and I missed—”

“What?!” Jane’s words shocked Catalina out of her own increasingly panicky silence. “God, Jane, no, it’s nothing like that!”

“Then what is it?” Jane looked as though she were on the verge of tears.

Catalina felt sick to her stomach. “Jane, it’s me who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have led you on like this. I _did_ want last night, rather badly, but the truth is I just _don’t_ want to be part of a couple. It’s not you—I don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with _anyone._ I was a wife nearly my whole adult life last time around, and I don’t want that again. I want to live my own life according to my own choices and priorities this time. Besides which, I love our friendship the way it is—and now I fear I’ve gone and spoiled it.” She shook her head sadly. “I really should have thought ahead more. I fear this changes everything, doesn’t it?”

Jane sat with this for several minutes, minutes during which Catalina felt utterly miserable.

_God forgive me if I’ve hurt her. I don’t know what to do with this feeling myself. I do love her, truly, and I’ll be devastated if I’ve ruined the friendship we’ve been building. But I only want to speak the truth to her, and to anyone else for that matter—and the truth is that I’m done being a wife. I want—no, I_ need _—to live this new life on my own terms._

_Even if that means being celibate. Unsatisfying as it may be—last night really_ was _better than anything I could have expected, and it will be a bitter draught to give up the possibility of having that again—_

“Cata,” Jane ventured diffidently, interrupting her rumination. “What if nothing had to change?”

She was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Jane picked at a loose thread on the duvet. “What you said just now clarified something for me. I’d been confused about how I felt for you—I knew that I… _wanted_ you, and I knew I loved you, but I also didn’t necessarily want to _be with_ you, or anyone really, in the way that Anne and Cathy, or Kitty and Anna are _with_ each other. And certainly not in the way _any_ of us were bound to Henry in our last lives.” She looked up at Catalina. “Everyone remembers me as the perfect, dutiful wife and mother. That was what my whole life got reduced to, but the truth is that for years I stood on my own, and made my way without a husband. I lived twenty-nine years, and I was only a wife for a year and a half of those! No one remembers that, but _I_ do, and I want that to be my story now, too.”

Catalina felt her mouth opening in surprise as Jane spoke. She hadn’t dared to hope that not only did the woman she was quickly coming to think of as her best friend here understand her, but that she felt the same way, and wanted similar things.

“And,” Jane was continuing, “is it really inevitable that we should have to give up _this_ —” she gestured vaguely at their naked bodies and the rumpled bedding—"because we both want to live this new life uncoupled?” Her voice was gaining strength as she spoke. “I _really, really_ enjoyed last night, and I think you did, too. And here’s the thing—I don’t want to be bound to someone, but last time around I sacrificed—was in many ways _forced_ to sacrifice— my body for a man, and for a kingdom. This time, I want to fully enjoy the body I was given. There are”— she pursed her lips thoughtfully—“there are _experiences_ I want to be able to have.”

“But that’s almost _exactly_ how I feel!” Catalina couldn’t believe her luck. “So you mean to tell me that after all that panic, you and I want the same thing?”

“It seems so!” Jane reached out and placed a hand on Catalina’s shoulder. “Catalina, you are my best friend, and because of that I love you very dearly; what I said to you last night was absolutely meant in that sense. I don’t want to hem you in, and I trust you don’t want to do that to me either.”

Catalina caught Jane’s hand in her own, relief flooding her consciousness. “That is precisely how I feel about you, Jane. I also find you _extremely_ attractive, and I would not at all be averse to continuing to, how do you say, _have experiences_ together whenever the fancy strikes. Which—” she paused, realizing as she got a good look at Jane in the light of day that the sensation of relief was now mixed with other sensations entirely—“if I am being honest, also happens to be right now. At least on my end.”

Jane laughed, and pulled Catalina down on top of her. “Make it quick. I want to pop back into the studio before we have to be at the theater and see how long it’ll be before the piece I made last night is ready for the kiln.”

“And come to think of it,” Catalina added, relaxing into Jane’s touch, “I’d meant to go get some painting supplies…”

“Well, then, stop with the chitchat and let’s get down to business. Then we can continue with our _very_ fulfilling single lives.”

Jane had raised a wry eyebrow as she’d said this, but Catalina knew she meant it. Still, she managed one key correction before Jane made sure her mouth was otherwise occupied:

“I believe, my dear Jane, we just established that _this_ is very much a _part_ of our very fulfilling single lives.”


End file.
